The bridge I crossed
by fool.0
Summary: Wherein Naruto eats ramen and Sasuke can't take a hint. AU.
1. The First

First of all, thanks for your patience as I get things in order after my website went down. I'm going to start uploading this beastly story onto fanfic now, but as I was going through the chapters, I realized that I didn't like a lot of it--mostly because I wrote it several years ago, and I'm a little more mature (hopefully) now. So. There's been a major rewrite of many of the chapters.

Enjoy! And I'd love feedback on the new version.

* * *

**The bridge I crossed**

_The First_

My first glimpse of the world that morning was Shikamaru, an empty bucket in his hands. I stared down at the wet patch on my pillow and wiped away at the water on my face. It wasn't what I was expecting, but for the sake of manners, I cracked him a smile anyways.

He didn't look amused. "Get up." I blinked once, and then twice at the command.

"Um--" I made a gesture that may or may not have been profane. "I don't think so." Slowly, I swung my feet over the bed and cradled my head in my hands, careful not to move too much, because really, my stomach was unlikely to stay _inside_ for the day.

"It's eight thirty," he informed me. I cranked open an eye, but let it close again when the time didn't ring a bell-of-importance in my mind. "Your job. Remember? You need to be there at nine." I sat up straighter. Today was Wednesday, July the seventh, two thousand and four, the first day of my first employment. And I was drunk.

"Oh." My tongue was heavy and dry against the roof of my mouth.

"_Oh_?" Shikamaru stared at me, and then, with a painful thud that made my teeth clatter, knocked me on the head with the bucket. "You're so troublesome, Naruto."

"Right. I'm--I'm--" I blinked at the digital clock on my bedside table. 8:34. "Late." Growling, Shikamaru latched onto my wrist and pulled me out of the bed and towards the bathroom. "Idiots getting drunk the night before--Take a quick shower. I'll put out some clothes for you on your bed and knock on the door in ten minutes, but then I have to go to work myself. When you come out, drink some hot coffee or tea with some aspirin. I'll call a cab."

"Breakfast?" I asked, fumbling with the faucet to the sink water. Cold water came gushing out with a twist of my wrist, and I cupped my hands underneath to wash my face. This was all Kiba's fault. By this time tomorrow morning, he would be a dead man, I decided.

"--wouldn't be a good idea to eat right now, with your hangover," Shikamaru's words filtered through my thoughts, slow and slurred as if he were drunk too. But Shikamaru had always talked like that, with that slow drag that made me want to slap him so he would speak faster. He took my silence as willingness to follow his directions, because he shut the door. I scowled at the door and began stripping, interrupted only by Shikamaru's shout from the other side of the door.

"Don't forget to brush!" And so I stopped undressing and returned to the sink, wondering when I'd gotten so disoriented that I forgot something as mundane as brushing my teeth. When I spit out the foam in my mouth, I straightened to get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My blue eyes were dilated, I had small but noticeable bags under my eyes, my skin was pale, and to top it all off, I looked mildly unstable with a shock of blond hair messier than usual.

And it was all Kiba's fault--the man had come barging into my house the night before, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief as he had revealed a pack of beer which he had bought on his way to my house. I had stayed up till one thirty, watched Kiba go back up the stairs to his own apartment, and sometime between watching reruns of _I love Lucy_ dubbed in Chinese, and feeling mildly idiotic for having drunk so much on a weekday, I must have fallen asleep.

"Celebration, my ass," I muttered as I stepped into the shower, and stopped short when I realized that I saw _two_ faucets, not one.

This, I thought, trying not to accidentally swallow some of the water from the shower head, was not one of the finest moments in my life.

--

It was 8:47 by the time I made my way downstairs to the cab that was waiting for me. The driver was standing outside, cigarette hanging at the corner of his mouth. When he saw me, he straightened and dropped the cigarette on the pavement. "Uchiha Corps, right?"

I nodded, and the man jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Friend of yours paid already. Get in."

I didn't pay much attention to the drive there--I closed my eyes and tried to slow the dull throb in my head--but when the car finally began to slow down, I perked up. We were curving around the entrance to the Uchiha Corps building, a tall, daunting structure with deep blue windows all along the sides. I looked up, and caught the red of the Uchiha clan logo as the car rolled to a stop.

When I got out, the noise made me reel a little. I looked up the steps that lead to the entrance of the building, and bracing myself, began my trek. The main lobby of the building was eerily silent with only a few people, and I realized guiltily that it was because I was late and everyone else was already at work.

I was tempted to go towards the information desk and ask someone for directions, but I was late enough, and I already knew my directions. Vaguely. The woman at the phone, a Yamanaka Ino, had told me to go to the ninth floor, and that there would be someone to direct me to the office if I identified myself. So I turned my head and scanned the large lobby. There were several elevators at the other end, and one of them had just shut. Another elevator's door was open but it had just begun to close slowly.

I was late as it was, and I knew that I would never be able to catch the elevator if it left. It took me a split-second to come to a decision against the headache and nausea that was starting to overwhelm me.

I ran.

I heard a distant "hey" from one of the guards, but I was already near the elevator. Turning sideways, I slipped in between the doors and felt a slight gush of air as the doors closed shut. To my right, I could vaguely make out the numbers on the buttons, and I pushed one that mildly resembled a '9'. And the elevator began to climb.

By then, I was sweating slightly, my head was pounding, and I could feel nausea overwhelming me. Slowly, gratefully, I leaned against the cool metal doors for support, closing my eyes against the bright lights of the elevator. Maybe, I could make it seem as if I was sick to explain my tardiness, and not my stupid decision to drink the night before. Then they might sympathize and let me go. Tantalizing as the idea was, there was no way it would work. But maybe I had taken a job that didn't require me to _think _or pay attention. But that was unlikely. It was the first day, and first impressions were lasting impressions.

When I opened my eyes again, my vision blurred and my stomach lurched. I leaned more heavily against the doors, wondering if I would even be able to say a single coherent sentence at this rate.

And that was when the doors for the elevators slid open. There was a moment when I felt suspended, as if someone was holding me up for a few seconds. And then, gravity noticed. My head cracked against the floor, and bounced back up with the force of it. My vision blacked out for a moment, and then, sound: a 'diiing' sound in my ear, disturbingly familiar to the 'ding' of the elevator.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the light, black spots and bubbles in my vision, and the blurry figure staring down at me.

I'd gotten drunk before, not too often, but often enough to remember the aftermaths. None of my previous experiences resembled this, and I felt a sense of alarm starting to take over. Maybe Kiba mixed something--My mouth opened, and I began to talk, auto-pilot. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, the new secretary for Uchiha Sasuke. Could you direct me to his office?"

There was silence. I took a deep breath, and held out my hand for him to take and help me up. He didn't move, so after a few seconds, I let my hand drop. Maybe--I smiled at him. "Please?"

He said nothing. Then, "Move."

Was this guy _serious_? "What?"

"Move."

He _was_ serious. The insult registered, and as if on cue, my anger flared. How _dare _he? "All right mister, you might be having a cruddy day, so I understand if you're in a bad mood, but could you at least have the decency to answer my question?"

Silence. "You're fired." His voice held no hint of emotion. He just _said_ it, and I knew in that instant, who this man was.

"Uchiha-" I began to pronounce his name to solidify my doubts, but he stepped over my body and walked into the elevator. I pushed myself up off of the ground using my elbow as leverage to watch his actions. He glanced down at my feet, which were still in the elevator doors' way. I didn't move, so he kicked my feet out of the elevator, and then finally, the doors slid shut.

The blood rushed to my face in one single wave. "Oi!" I stared indignantly at the elevator doors. In the next minute I was up, and was pushing the buttons of the elevators, hoping to make the doors open again, but they didn't. I turned and finally faced the other occupants of that floor in the building.

"Where's he going? And where are the stairs in this building?" I was surprised to see that my mind functioned at such a basic level that I knew to go chase him down and punch him in the face--I was itching for a fight now. Someone had the sense to lift his hand and point in the general direction of the stairs, and someone else said "sixth floor" but I was already bounding down the stairs.

Each step seemed like a wave of pain that started at the soles of my feet, and made its way up all the way to my mind, but I ignored it as much as I could and continued until I saw the sign saying '6' by a door on the stair landing. The door made a clicking noise--sounding too loud, louder than any door should sound--when I wrenched it open and entered the office space.

I saw the man walking down the aisles towards a door at a measured pace, and I followed him, weaving through a few cubicles. When I was a few feet away, I collected my breath, and then, "Uchiha!" He stopped and turned to face me.

"I thought I fired you," he said at last. We were a few feet away from each other, but still, I couldn't tell what he looked like. I could feel the unexplained, and uncontrollable anger rise up in me again. It wasn't my strong suit, I knew from experience. I had a short temper, but never--never as bad as this.

Te dull thudding in my head was thunder as I strode over and grabbed him by his collar, t. "Look-it asshole," I was slipping back into my comfortable thirteen-year-old-self in my anger, a side of me that could draw out a colorful string of insults if necessary, however ineffective. "Who do you think you are, huh? When someone _falls_ in front of you, you help them _up_. If you want to fire me, then _fine_, but repeat after me: I'm so-rry for being a mannerless _fuzzball_."

The man slapped my hand away, and stared at me for a second or two before walking away. I knew he expected me to leave, bow my head and just go crawling home after hearing his edict, but he had no idea--no idea at all--who he was dealing with. He didn't offer to help me get up. Fired me, and what more? He hit me. And now, he was walking away, calm and steady, as if he had not just insulted a fellow human being without even a scrap of decency, as if I didn't _exist_--

He was about five feet away when I attempted to catch up, grab him by the shoulder and _force_ him to face me again. The man had turned in response to the flurry of action behind him, I think in hope to ward of my attack. I attempted to stop our collision. The last thing I wanted was another bump on my head. Whether it was an accident or not, I didn't know, I began to topple forwards. I attempted to grab onto something, anything that would stop my fall, which happened to be the man in front of me. I grabbed hold of his collar again, a few inches away from him. My action seemed unexpected, because the man didn't stand his ground but went in the general direction of my fall. It sent both of us toppling to the ground, and our foreheads collided. The pain was momentary, sharp and blinding, and to avoid any more wounds from hitting each other, I tilted my head at an angle, and then I felt his lips against mine.

The first thought that crossed my mind was that his lips were a little brittle. He opened his mouth for a gasp of air. And that was when it happened--My tongue gravitated into _his_ mouth, a complete accident. He tasted good, like lightly spiced water, and then his tongue was pushing up forcefully and into _my_ mouth. Retaliation, I realized. I pushed back down, not about to be bested, and he pushed back up, growling slightly, our teeth clacking a little. Distantly, I felt his hand closing on my hip, gripping hard. I made a fist and punched him as hard as I could in the shoulder, annoyed now. _What_ was he doing? And then he tilted his head, leaned his head up slightly, and _bit_ my bottom lip.

I broke it then, his teeth still pulling at my bottom lip a little and our lips making a loud smacking sound. Coughing gagging, cursing, sputtering, and holding onto my neck, I sat up, straddling him still.

That was _it_. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a nerve tethered and broke, and with it went my sanity. "Oiii! You _bastard_! What the _hell_ was that?" It was a stupid question because both of us--and the entire office now--knew what that was. That was the stupidest, most childish, _public_ french kiss in history. And as far as french kisses went, it wasn't bad. I blushed at the thought, the words running dry in my mind. He stared at me, calm still.

"Your lip's bleeding."

I wet my bottom lip and tasted blood. "Yeah, cause you BIT me, you _animal_."

I pushed myself off him and stood, watching as he smoothed wrinkles from his suit and got up as well. His face was still fuzzy so I couldn't tell his expression. "_First_ you don't help me when I'm in severe pain. And _then_ you fire me for no reason. Which will ruin my near future because how the hell am I supposed to _feed_ myself with ramen if I don't have any money--and then--_then_ you _physically_ harass me! And to top it all off, you_ sexually _harass me!" He shrugged. "You _bit_ me. You little _prick_, if I get a hickey on my face, I'm going to _kill_ you."

He didn't say anything, _still_ hadn't said anything. By then, I had gotten worked up into a complete anger. Then and there, I decided that Uchiha Sasuke was the reason for all my miseries that I had experienced so far in my life, that I was experiencing, and I would experience in the future. So I stood my ground.

"Shut up."

I opened my mouth, and I could feel my tongue moving in an attempt to form some words. So: "_Oi_!"

"If you said 'oi', that would've been enough. No need to screech like a parrot." His voice was crisp, but muted against the rushing sound in my ears. My head was pounding, and I could feel a constant ringing my ears. I was shivering visibly from the cold now, and I hoped he thought it as a sign of my anger. My previous desire to throw up was gone now, replaced by the man's sweet-spicy taste.

"Oh, and _you_ would know how a parrot sounds like, would you? Do you abuse your parrot like you did me? Pet-abuser," I blinked at what I had just said. There was absolutely no logic in my accusation. What was--my mouth opened and I was about to say something else, equally stupid, probably, when I heard "Hey, YOU," and felt a hand on my shoulder. I slapped at the hand and turned around, only to come face to face with two security guards.

This, the thought dawned on me suddenly, was _not_ my day. "Are you _serious_?" I threw up my hands.

"You didn't sign in at the lobby," one of them said, a little meekly. He looked over my shoulder, caught a glimpse of the Uchiha and bowed his head a little. "Mr. Uchiha."

"_We_," I said, indicating the Uchiha, "Were having a conversation. If you don't mind."

There was silence, and then one of them reached forward to grab me by the arm. I moved back, trying to avoid him and walked right into the Uchiha again. "Tell them," I snapped, turning to look at the Uchiha. We were close now, too close maybe, but I _still_ couldn't see his features against the black clouds in my vision. "Tell them that we're having a conversation."

The Uchiha waved his hand at the security guards, dismissing them. "I fired you," he said to me, monotone.

"I _realize_ that, you half-spined _excuse_ of a man," I seethed, turning to face him and grabbing hold of his collar again. I pulled him down so we were at eye-level. "But _I _wasn't done insulting you."

"You were at 'pet-abuser'," the Uchiha supplemented.

"There's a law against abusing pets, you know. You'll be put in jail, and how would you like _that, _huh?"

"Is there a problem here?" I looked over the Uchiha's shoulder and saw the vague outline of yet another man. He was not wearing a suit from what I could tell from the white color on the black pants. He began to walk towards Uchiha, but then stopped when I scowled at him.

"It _is_ a law. You'll probably be arrested like the man in Florida who was found having sex with his pet porcupine!" This was directed to Uchiha.

"And why exactly do you know this?" The other man asked with mild interest.

Uchiha shook his head. "You don't want to know, Kakashi. Really."

I was sending the signals to my mouth to shut up, but they didn't seem to be registering. "It's called the _news_! _Hello_! The media broadcasted the stupid lawsuit for two months!" I prayed that the media _did_ take the time to do so, but I knew that it was just another silly fact that Kiba had come across while working in his office. As an assistant editor of the A&E at the Tokyo Daigaku Shinbun he was bound to come across random jokes. And Kiba had a tendency to try them out on Shikamaru and me.

The second man--Kakashi, was it?--stayed silent for a while before saying, "That's from _Come, Come Paradise_, isn't it?" The name sounded familiar, and then I remembered that Kiba had made me buy it for him as a birthday present. It was apparently a best-selling porn novel series from the nineties.

I took Kakashi's comment and used it to--what I thought was--my advantage. "Now it's a lawsuit against _two_ people! You, Uchiha Sasuke," I jabbed at the Uchiha's chest viciously with a finger, "You're being influenced by a perverted old freak to abuse your pet parrots!" I glared at Kakashi, and poked at the Uchiha again for added effect. "You'll lose your job for influential behavior that will affect a CEO of a company," I paused. Then, "_Which_ in turn affects his working subordinates." Another jab.

I groaned at the end of my rampage. What was I _saying_? It was Kakashi who spoke next. "Are you _really_ Uzumaki Naruto?"

"Damn right, I am," I snapped. "And you better _remember _it, you son of a--"

"Did somebody drop you on your head when you were two-years old?" The Uchiha this time.

I growled in anger. "Nobody could pick me off my feet when I was two--" a pause. Could they? I hoped they couldn't -- "I was too stubborn."

I heard Kakashi's amused chuckle, and then it hit me. "Wait-_Oi_! Are you implying that nobody could pick me up because I'm fat? Do I look _fat_ to you? _You're_ the one who's fat!" I knew I was guessing blindly with this piece of information because I couldn't see very well any more. I was starting to get scared now--what was happening to my body?--but I continued in a hope to vent all my anger before I got kicked out.

"And _you,_" I jabbed at the Uchiha again, but this time he caught my wrist and held on, "you overly arrogant _prick_." I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on, grip strong. "You could have _at least_ helped me up. If you had, I would have let you eat _ramen_ with me." He didn't seem phased. "RAMEN," I said again, bringing up my other hand and stabbing him in the chest. He didn't seem to understand what I was offering here, so I tried again, giving him another jab. "R-AAA-MEN." He caught my other hand.

"But anyways, _you_-OI! Do you not even _blink_ when I'm insulting you? You--you prideless freak of nature!"

In "blinking" I was referring to his lack of response. But I doubt that I would have gotten very far in provoking him even if I _had_ been conscious. I learned later, that Sasuke is like that: un-provokeable except in reference to his brother, Itachi. So by then, I had expended my energy to its greatest reserve and I saw blackness for a second before I blinked again and saw the Uchiha bending over me.

--

When I came to myself again, it was surprising to see a calm face peering down at me. I could see much better now, and I noticed that his features were soft, and very relaxed. His hair was long, and stray wisp of it fell over his shoulder, almost touching me, while the rest was tied back. His lips were thin, but still were soft to look at, and his skin was pale, so pale that it might have made anyone else look sick. But it made this man look...beautiful.

It took me a while to notice that the man was smiling at me, and I turned away, embarrassed at my own open stare. That was when I was assaulted by the whiteness. A hospital.

"Why am I-," I stopped because my mouth was too dry to continue, and I looked at the jug of water resting serenely on the table next to the bed. I reached over with my hand and noticed that there was a transparent line going into my wrist. IV. _Damn_ I needed to get my hands around Kiba's throat.

The man reached over and touched my wrist slightly, moving to help me with the water. I felt the blood rush to my face again, and I noticed two things in that moment: there was no longer a thundering headache, only a dull thudding, and that I didn't want to throw up anymore. I looked up and caught the man's uncensored stare. His eyes were...my face heated up at my train of thought, and the man laughed at me.

"You blush a lot," his voice was rich and low, almost sensual in the way he said the words. "Do I make you feel shy?"

His blatant question took me off guard, but I responded. "No! it's just that I--I remembered what I was doing before I ended up here."

"Kakashi told me about it," he said. The name sounded familiar, but before I could identify who exactly Kakashi was, I was distracted by the man as he hooked the stray strand of black hair behind his ear. He had a mug of water ready, so I got into a sitting position.

Which was when I noticed that I was no longer wearing a shirt, but was only clad in pants. I pulled up the sheets a bit higher in an attempt to conceal the spiraling tattoo on my stomach. It was a mark that was left on me by Zabuza, and I'd once gone to a tattoo artist and asked to have it burned off. The artist had refused to burn off the tattoo, saying that she wouldn't do it to mar my beauty. Right. Beauty indeed. And where was my beauty when I was forced to confront Mr. Sexy Doctor?

"He was a bit...let's say, surprised," the man's carefully chosen words bought snapped me out of my thoughts.

I feigned a laugh. "So was I."

"Well, that's to be expected from someone who was burning up with a high fever. And a hangover."

I laughed guiltily at that. "Oh, _that_ might explain it."

The man laughed, and I felt warm while listening to his voice. "I forgot to introduce myself so far. I'm your doctor," he stated. He cocked his head at me and smiled again, a sweet, seemingly innocent smile that made the the hairs at the back of my neck stand. There was something mildly sinister about this man, a gut instinct was telling me, but dear _god_, his shoulders were--"Orochimaru." I nodded, tempted to say his name and see how it sounded coming from me, but refrained and instead offered a thank you. He smiled at that again, and took the glass of water from me and put it on the table.

"A nurse will come by to check on you later. You can call someone to let you know you're here." I recognized the closing sentence to a conversation, and felt a pang at his departure.

He was still sitting by the bedside when he said this, and now he stood up in a graceful motion. I saw that he was wearing the doctor's white vest, and it hung limply on his well built frame. My heart was hammering away in my ribcage, as if the space between my bones was not enough for it. Then, before he turned to leave, he bent down a bit and placed the back of his hand against the skin on my forehead, feeling for any heat. He shook his head with a sigh and straightened up. The touch was noncommittal, and it served his purpose, but I had learned in that one instant how cold Orochimaru was to touch. _I could warm it for you_, I wanted to say. "Looks like I might not need to check on you again," he said, breaking me away from my reverie.

He walked to a wall of cabinets in the room and fumbled around before coming back with a thermometer. I opened my mouth dutifully and he placed the thermometer under my tongue. When it beeped, he took it out and showed me the number. 99.8. "You can go home if you want."

I opened my mouth, surprised that my fever had broken so early. _Why_ did I have to get over sicknesses so fast? _Why_? And the one time I wanted to stay in the hospital so badly. _Damn_ Kiba for not making me drink some more. But then again, I didn't need a doctor to watch over me for a simple fever. This was a lot of attention to a pretty simple diagnosis. I looked around, my eyes widening at how pristine and well-equipped the room was. There was a flat screen TV across from my bed, an entire wall of glass windows, and even a vase of fresh flowers.

"You're still feverish, but its not as bad as it was when you came in this morning. We ran a cat scan because Sasuke said you fell pretty hard on your head. Everything seems normal," Orochimaru was explaining as he walked over to the foot of my bed. "So if you would like, you can go home, and rest there. If you don't--" he paused at this and winked with a sly smile that made the blood rush to my face again, "You can stay here since Sasuke is paying for all of this."

"What? The Uchiha bastard?"

"You don't like him?"

"Well, he didn't exactly _flatter_ me the first time he saw me." I remembered the Uchiha's voice and his flat command when he looked down at me on the floor by the elevator. I hadn't gotten a chance to glimpse at his features very well, even when I had kissed him, so I didn't expect Orochimaru's next comment.

"Most people don't say that after they see him. You're the first." His head was tilted in a questioning angle, and I could see the line of his jaw that trailed down his neck and into the folds of his shirt. The stethoscope that hung around his neck, something that usually seemed like a burden was a jewel on Orochimaru, emphasizing his perfectly chiseled neck. It made me want to trace his jaw line.

But I didn't. Of _course_, I didn't. What was he saying again? I paused, trying not to look too lost. Right, the Uchiha Bastard. "Uh--Why?" The anger in my voice had faded in the past few seconds.

"_Why_?" Orochimaru's voice held a hint of surprise. "Didn't you get a good look at him? Kakashi said that you kissed--"

"Accidentally," I added quickly. Accidental as that kiss was, it wasn't just a peck. Far from it, even. I looked away, feeling an all-too-familiar heat in my face.

"Well, either way," Orochimaru continued, "he's a handsome man."

I wanted to point out to Orochimaru that it would be unlikely for the Uchiha to be more good-looking than he was, but bit my tongue and left the comment dangling in my mind. "Does that mean that I should just ignore his--his _indifference_ to me?"

"Indifference?" Orochimaru asked with another laugh. I watched the vest ripple around his frame as he moved towards me. He was at my feet, but still close enough for me to reach out and touch him. "Kakashi told me what happened. He said that Sasuke was the one who actually ordered someone to call for a doctor. He also caught you when you fainted." Exactly _who_ was in hell's name was this Kakashi, and couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

I scoffed and looked away, the anger inside me building again. "Anyone would have. I was unconscious--"

"Sasuke wouldn't have bothered. Trust me, I've known him since he was twelve," Orochimaru said with emphasis. He paused, considering me for a while before continuing. "Kakashi actually said that Sasuke was rather disgruntled by your...your outburst. No one's ever spoken to Sasuke like that before."

I sighed, the weariness starting to take a toll on me. "Either way." It annoyed me that Orochimaru defended the Uchiha. I couldn't pin point the origin for this feeling, but I knew immediately that it was jealousy. The same green, festering emotion that had once led to my disaster before with Zabuza and Haku. "He was wrong to not offer any help when he saw me lying on the floor. His attitude bothered me, and he just _fired_ me without even getting to know--"

"It wasn't the smartest thing to get drunk the night before your first day of employment, you know." Orochimaru pointed out my mistake as if casually noticing the weather. I cringed at his frankness, but I finally convinced myself to accept the fact that I _did _bring this on myself, and heaved yet another sigh in resignation. I stifled a yawn with the back of my hand.

"Well, I've kept you up long enough," Orochimaru said a little suddenly, "I'll be leaving now." He walked towards the door for the second time, and turned to reiterate his previous offer. "You _could_ stay here for another day, you know. Recover completely and then go back home."

I nodded, grateful and excited that I might see the man again. Did he_ want_ me to stay? Good heavenly gods above, make it be so.He tilted his head with a friendly, yet not completely innocent smile before leaving the room. I blushed thinking of all the possibilities that the smile could have meant. _Damn_ he was hot. But maybe he wasn't gay. Who was I to assume that every good looking guy on this planet was gay?

I shifted deeper into the sheets, and closed my eyes, deciding that no matter how good-looking Orochimaru might be, I still needed my sleep.

--

When I opened my eyes again, it was dark outside. I had slept through most of the day, and I felt relaxed and rather happy considering the fact that someone else was paying for all the costs. I stretched, arching my back until it was suspended from the bed and let out a moan when the bones in my body cracked and then relaxed. Perfect. I fell back onto the bed and pulled the sheets around me, staring out the window.

It was too dark to notice anything except the faint glow of Tokyo night life in the distance. I sighed and turned onto my back, blinking up at the ceiling. I had lost a decent paying, easy job, one which would have funded me through grad school.

Which meant I had to find another job, at least until I applied and got into grad school. Maybe I'd find a job on campus, maybe a grant. I had a year and a half of experience already, filling my resume--copy editor, PR assistant--but they hadn't paid very well. And just when I found a well paying job, six months away from applying to Tokyo U., I'd gotten fired. I pressed the butt of my palm against my eyes and breathed out deeply.

I turned onto my side, my back to the window and my eyes still closed. I could do this, I told myself. I could do anything I set my mind to. But still. It was a golden opportunity and I messed up. I opened my eyes, ready to make a call to Kiba or Shikamaru to put my mind at ease, when out of nowhere, I saw the silhouette of a man sitting by my bed. I scrambled awake, jerking away from him and towards the edge of the bed. "_Holy_ shi--"

"Hatake Kakashi," he introduced himself in a leveled voice, ignoring my surprise. I took deep breaths, my heart pounding still. Kakashi. The man who couldn't keep his mouth shut in front of Orochimaru. How long had he been here? I didn't hear the door open or close, and I had been up for at least a few minutes. He held out a hand for me to shake, and I took it, surprised at his strong grip. "We've met. In sorts."

I raised my eyebrow at that, unable to place the man in my mind except in relation to Orochimaru. Then, it suddenly came to me: this was the same person who had talked to the Uchiha bastard. "_Come, Come Paradise_, right?" I asked.

The man laughed guiltily. "When I was young, a long time ago," he said with a sigh. "But, anyways, how are you? Orochimaru said that you're in fine condition."

I opened my mouth to say something when Kakashi continued. "Just fine," he said looking up and down at me. I bristled under his inspection. Ignoring me, he stood up. "Do you mind if I turn on the light?"

"No," I muttered, wondering why he had bothered to ask when he was already at the light switch. It was then that I got my first true glimpse of Hatake Kakashi--tall, broad-shouldered, lean, and even under the folds of his suit, I could tell, a good body. He had a scar over his left eye, something that may have been disfiguring on any normal man, but an accent on Kakashi.

He sat down on the bedside stool, folding himself to fit on the small chair. Smiling politely he began. "I know that it might come as a shock for you, but I'm going to re-hire you for the job."

I gaped at him, my mouth slack, and once again, I could feel my tongue moving to form some words, any audible sound.

"I saw your resume," he continued. "I don't have to tell you that you have an impressive history. With your degree in Kyoto University and all. You were the best candidate we had." He was still looking at me intently, and I shifted nervously. "We make mistakes. There is nothing wrong in getting drunk the night before your employment. I'm willing to forget what you did and re-hire you for the same reasons I did before."

I closed my mouth shut and then looked away. "I refuse." My job with the Uchiha was only temporary. Five months at best before grad school. It was for paying bills, nothing more, so I was in no desperation to take the job.

I didn't turn to look at Kakashi's expressions in response to my blatant refusal, and personally, I didn't care. But once again, I didn't expect Kakashi to say what he said next. "Hold the job for a few weeks. Five at the most, and no more," even though his voice was as leveled as he first spoke, I recognized the transformation his offer took as it became a subtly put plea.

I shook my head. "I won't work with that bastard. I refuse." With my resume, I could get a job anywhere. It would just take a while, but in the meantime, I could always room with Kiba or Shikamaru, and in the worst case scenario, I could move back to Kyoto and room with Iruka until--

"I'll recommend you. Grad school, isn't that what you said in the interview?" He held the offer like bait. I heaved a sigh, and weighed my options: if I were to refuse his offer, I would have to put on my resume that I had been hired and fired on a single day. But if I _accepted_ his offer...Grad school. A recommendation from Kakashi would mean nothing in a School of Journalism, but a recommendation from Uchiha Corps held a lot of sway in admissions, especially within Tokyo.

The answer was obvious, and I knew that Kakashi was well aware of the stakes I was being presented with. "I want a raise in the payment," I negotiated, noticing that he was still a little worried about my answer. Did they want to hire me back that badly? "If you want me for this job, I won't settle for the initially agreed price. I want a raise."

"Four percent."

I considered. If he was really that desperate--I glanced at Kakashi. He was desperate. Daring, I tried, "Fifteen."

Kakashi's eyes narrowed. "Six--"

"Fifteen or you can go hire someone else." He wouldn't buy this, would he?

Kakashi was silent for a while. "Deal." Well that was--interesting. I nodded my acceptance, and waited for him to say something else. "Good," his reply was grateful and curt at the same time. "Orochimaru said that you would be staying for another day in his care, you can start the day after tomorrow." I nodded again, and the man stood up with a departing sigh. He hooked his fingers on his pants and inclined his head at me with a smile.

"Naruto, right?" He asked suddenly. I scowled at him, offended. "Five weeks of you in the office," he continued, ignoring my frown, "Sasuke wouldn't mind that _too_ much."

I looked at him, disbelief overriding my sense to blush at what he was implying. Kakashi turned and was about to leave when he paused by the door, his hand lingering over the door knob. "He said," the words were thrown over his shoulders as if they held no importance, "that as far as kisses went, it wasn't too bad."

Then, the door was open and shut in a blink of an eye and I was facing an empty room. The day had held many surprises for me, and the last thing I was expecting was a compliment for my kiss from a stuck up bastard who fired me, physically harassed me, and then promptly followed it by sexually harassing me. And now, I would have to work for him. Five weeks at that.

_Damn_ I needed some ramen.

_End of The First_

* * *

_Footnotes:_

Tokyo Daigaku Shinbun: A real daily newspaper. I'm not sure if it has a humor section. I added that part for the conveniences of this story.

Kyoto University: It exists, and is one of the best universities in Japan


	2. The Second

So, onto the second chapter of 25 chapters (instead of the original 28; my editing cut down a few chapters. I make it sound like it's a big deal, but it isn't 'cuz this story is batshit EPIC.) So omg, y'all, stop flipping out on my inbox account. I can't email a kazillion and one of you folks 25 chapters worth of writing. So sit tight, cause it's all coming up on fanfic.

Enjoy, and don't forget that I appreciate feedback of any kind: comments, criticism, a good recipe for fudge brownies. Really.

* * *

**The bridge I crossed**

_The Second_

The sunlight invaded the room, uninvited and unwanted. I scowled at the brightness and turned away from the window. It took me a few more minutes before I woke up completely, but by the time I wandered over to the window, I was alert. In the morning, I could finally make out what was outside. It was a peaceful setting--a park for the patients. I spotted some people moving about, others resting on a benches. I didn't know what was beyond the park, but I could guess that if I were to walk to the very edge of the park and keep walking, I would stumble into the mire and confusion of the city.

Why was I getting such a royal treatment? That too for a fever. And how expensive was this hospital, exactly, to afford so much land in Tokyo? But then again, _was_ I in Tokyo? Shikamaru would have a heart attack if he knew what had happened so far. I was smiled, imagining his reaction, when there was a slight knock on the door. I turned, surprised, wondering if it _was_ Shikamaru, when I saw the upper half of Orochimaru's body.

"May I come in?" His voice was just as sweet, just as warming, just as song-like as I remembered him from yesterday.

I nodded, feeling my heart take off into a wild flight, and beat as fast as it could possibly beat._ Why _did it have to do that? Did my pathetic excuse of a brain think that having the heart beat faster would increase my ability to successfully flirt and seduce the man? Even if it did, it wasn't working. I was just blushing faster and was descending into darker shades of red as the minutes passed by.

"Do you like the view?"

I blinked, wondering when he had walked over to stand next to me. As casually as I could, I turned away from him. "It's peaceful."

He didn't say anything for a while before offering another question. "How do you feel today?"

"Relaxed."

Orochimaru laughed at that. "That's not usually what I hear," he said after his laughter had died out and echoed in the room like a lingering note of an instrument.

"Then what do you hear?"

"Usually its 'I have stomach aches, my head hearts, I can't swallow'...complaints. Never quite what you answered me with."

I glanced at him with a smile, but then looked away quickly. Orochimaru had said he knew the Uchiha since he was twelve, and he dropped Kakashi's name in the conversation as a friend would, so--"Kakashi re-hired me."

Orochimaru nodded at that. "He told me."

"I don't know why," I said finally.

When Orochimaru sighed, I turned to face him, and found his gaze boring into my skin. "Kakashi did what he thought was best for Sasuke."

"Are they related? Brothers?"

"Oh, no, no," Orochimaru said with a slight smile. He still held my gaze, and continued. "He feels protective about Sasuke. I think," He took a pause as if he were reconsidering his decision to tell me these things, "He sees a lot of himself in Sasuke." I waited, holding my breath, still looking into Orochimaru's golden-brown eyes. "Sasuke and Kakashi have something of an father-son. A brotherly relationship. They understand each other very well. Sasuke has a bad temper, you could say. He generally doesn't like to keep a secretary for more than two or three weeks--"

I interrupted him with a question. "Then why did he ask me to work for Sasuke for five weeks if he knows that I'll be fired sooner?"

Orochimaru shrugged and we fell silent. If Kakashi was doing what he thought was best for Sasuke, hiring me was the last thing that he would want to do. But then again, what could I do? After all, I _was_ dealing with the Uchihas. I was about to ask another question when my stomach gave out a rumble. "Does the hospital have ramen?" I asked suddenly. I couldn't eat a ramen-deprived lunch, no matter what the situation was.

Orochimaru shook his head 'no'. I must have looked disappointed because he offered, "I could have some bought in for you."

I looked up at Orochimaru, and my adoration must have showed because the doctor smiled. "But you'll have to pay since its food outside the hospital and--"

"No worries," Orochimaru said, dismissing my objections to his offer. He smiled, something playful in his gaze. "I'll pay."

I didn't object again, and I wasn't known to do so. Normally, I had to coerce Shikamaru or Kiba to pay for the ramen. I wouldn't suddenly change my habits and reject such a wonderful offer. Even if I_ did_ want to look polite in front of Orochimaru. "How can I pay you back, though?"

"I'll think of something," Orochimaru said, smirking still. I felt a blush coming when I realized that he was flirting with me. He pointedly looked down at my body, eyes landing on my tattoo. "Rebellious teenager?" My heart froze for a moment. Did he know Zabuza? Did he know Haku? Or was he just guessing--"I didn't mean to pry," Orochimaru added apologetically. I wondered if he saw the horror on my face.

I nodded with a shaky laugh of relief. "Ah--yeah--that--I just, you know--everyone was getting it and--I didn't know what I was doing then," I came to a halt in my ramble, realizing that it would be better to keep my mouth shut.

"Naruto? Are you really feeling better or did you just--"

"No! I'm feeling fine. Just a bit confused and dazed because all of what's happened," I was glad that I was able to come up with a better reason this time. "I didn't expect you to change topics so suddenly. I mean, going from ramen to my tattoo. It's just a bit confusing, that's all." Orochimaru nodded his head at that, still unconvinced.

"The nurse said that you were asleep yesterday so that she couldn't get a phone number," Orochimaru explained. "There's a phone on the table. You can call your friends and tell them that you are at Seibo Byoin room 793. Just press 81 and then the rest of the number."

I nodded. My hand was itching to cover my tattoo from his sight, but I didn't and turned to look out the window again. "Thanks."

The silence was slightly uncomfortable, but I didn't dwell on it too long. In a few minutes, Orochimaru was out the door, saying that the ramen would be up with me soon and that I could enjoy it. He _did_ wish me good luck with the Uchiha, and hoped to see me again sometime. Then, he was out the door, and I went over to the bed to grab the sheet and cover myself with it. The tattoo was more of a burning mark of shame than anything else. I felt foolish about working myself into so much of a panic when I could have just as easily brushed it off.

Angry still at my own stupidity, I moved to call Kiba. It rang two or three times before Kiba picked it up. "Inuzuka Kiba." His voice was crisp, the voice he used while at work, and I could sense that the day was beginning to wear out on him.

"Kiba, it's me."

"Hey, where were you? Shikamaru was worried sick! He thought you got killed or something after you took a cab!" Kiba's words came gushing out, and I was suddenly weary and longing for his presence. I was tired, sick and tired of myself. For some strange reason, my tattoo always had that affect on me.

"I'm at the hospital--"

"Were you attacked? Raped? Harassed? Stabbed? _What_? Answer me, damnit!"

"Kiba, will you give me a chance to ex--"

"Who was that _bastard_? Damnit, Naruto! Where are you? What did he do? Which one? Is he in jail? Did he get beaten? Did someone beat me into killing him already? Is it even a he? Is it a she? You should never trust a female taxi driver!"

"I'm _fine_!" I said, laughing at his overly dramatic concern.

There was a moment's pause. "Shikamaru told me that it was my fault that I got you drunk. Sorry, man," Kiba's apology was sincere, and I knew he regretted it more than ever now that I was in the hospital.

"I'm at the Seibo Byoin. Meet me in my room, and I'll explain, okay?"

"What room?"

"793."

"Should I call Shikamaru?" Kiba asked. I told him no, that I would do it myself and we hung up.

When I called Shikamaru, the response was more immediate. "Nara Shikamaru." The same type of voice, only lower and more dragged out. The man was already half asleep at his desk, doing whatever it was he did as an Okinawa military defense strategist. Maybe he had a lot of breaks, maybe he had nothing to do most of the time, but then again, this was all speculation: Shikamaru _never_ talked about his work.

"Shikamaru," I began.

"_You _have some explaining to do, Naruto," his voice did not hold the urgency that Kiba's did, but by the way his words came out faster, I knew that he was worried. "I thought you were dead, man. I called the cops to search for you this morning."

"Oh." He called the _cops_?

"Oh, indeed. They called me saying that you were at the hospital, but I couldn't come, and every time I called in to talk to you, they told me you were asleep. And when I asked them what was wrong with you, they said they couldn't tell me because of patient confidentiality, and that I would have to come in person, sign a damned form that assures their worried little asses that I am_ indeed_ your friend and-- damn it, couldn't you at least _call_ me instead of sleeping like an overly fed pig?"

"Um--I--"

"Could you imagine all the things I thought? You being attack-"

"Attacked, raped, harassed, stabbed, killed. Yes, Kiba told me. But it's none of that." I finished his sentence.

There was silence, and then, "I'll be there. What room?"

"793."

"Right."

"Bye."

"Bye." Shikamaru, as always, waited for me to hang up, and I did, feeling guilty now. A few minutes after I had finished talking with thim, a tall man with a pleasant face came in wearing the hallmark soft blue of a hospital employee. "Ramen?" He asked.

I nodded gratefully, said a 'thank you' and dug in the minute he left the room. Food usually cheered me up, so I consumed the ramen as if my life depended on it. And in a way, it did. I don't know what I would have done in the stifling silence until Kiba came. Eating was a distraction, and when Kiba finally did come in with a look of dread, relief and horror, I was done eating and was putting away the chopsticks in the now empty box. I took the cup of water and drank it while I watched Kiba wait nervously, looking at me with murder written all over his face.

"You. Uzumaki. Naruto. Explain. Now." He was looking at me with a hard, yet caring brown gaze, and his angular features were slightly tight. His slightly skin was pale, and I realized the shock he must have had with my sudden absence.

"Well." I paused for dramatic effect. He waited. His patience was frail, and the least bit of provocation would make him snap, so deciding not to my luck, I began. "I got fired."

"_What_?"

"I got fired because--I don't know. I was late, but then he could have forgiven me. And he could have at least helped me. But _no_, he says 'move' and then fires me. And then kissed me."

"_Who?" _Kiba interrupted.

"Uchiha Bastard." That was it. That would be his name from now. The Uchiha Bastard, the UB, mine to hate.

"Is that his name? I thought it was Uchiha Sasuke."

"That _is_ his name."

"What? Uchiha Bastard. Strange name--"

"No."

"You don't think so?"

"I think so--no!" I said exasperatedly. I was getting confused again.

"Well, go on," Kiba said, also confused.

"Then, I fainted and then I admitted in the hospital. Orochimaru said that it was because I had a hangover and a fever. And I slept, and then I woke up, and _he_ was there."

"Uchiha Bastard?"

"No! Kakashi. Well, Kakashi rehired me for five weeks with a guaranteed recommendation for grad school. But then Orochimaru said that I would be fired again in a week--"

"Right," Kiba said, trying to puzzle it all together. He furrowed his brow in thought, and came to sit next to my bed. "Who is Kakashi and who is Orochimoro?" This was said as he loosened his tie around his neck to make himself more comfortable.

"Orochim_a_ru!"

"What ever," Kiba said off-handedly.

"No, not what ever," I said, angry now. I settled myself deeper into the blanket that was covering me and crossed my legs Indian style on the bed. "Kiba."

Kiba looked at me and his features softened drastically. "What?" He asked softly, as if speaking to a child.

"People are hiring me, firing me, re-hiring me, and re-firing me without asking." Kiba chuckled and patted me on the head his hand lingering to ruffle my hair a little. I growled and shifted away from the touch.

"That's okay. You're probably used to being worshiped wherever you go, but they can do that if they want to."

"I should have gotten an explanation at least--"

"Well, anyways, who is Kakashi? And this Orochimaru?"

"Kakashi is Sasuke's guardian...I guess. He does what he thinks is best for Sasuke. That's what Orochimaru said. And Orochimaru's my doctor here." I smiled at that, and Kiba looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

"He's _sexy_," I whined, almost about to add, _And he's interested in me._ "I can't help it!"

"Are you still feverish?" He asked, touching my forehead. "Nope. Are you on something? They got you on the good stuff last night, huh?"

"No!" My objection was rather forceful, and Kiba snapped his mouth shut with a click.

"You said something about the Uchiha Bastard kissing you...is that all that anyone did to...hurt you? Or did something else--"

"No. That was it. But...yeah," I ended lamely. What was I supposed to say? Yeah, he kissed me, Kiba, and _damn_ it was good?

"So...do you mind re-explaining all of this in detail so I can have a better idea? And please _explain_. Slowly. With details."

"Kiba, you lecherous bastard," I misunderstood what he was saying, thinking that he was demanding details about the kiss.

"No, you pervert! Not like _that_. I just meant that you should give me details about what happened!" Kiba brought a hand to his face and rubbed at his eyelids wearily. "I was so worried," he said finally. "Don't do that again." I noticed the way his muscles collapsed onto themselves with release, the way he hunched over as he was unburdened of something very heavy. I felt sorry for all that happened, I'd never wanted to actually make them worry, and I told him as much.

Kiba accepted my apology and looked over to the table. "Ramen?" He asked. "They give out ramen in the hospital?"

"No. Orochimaru bought it for me," I explained, beaming at him. Kiba flung his heavy gaze at me, and I felt like a caught child.

"What? Mr. Sexy Doctor?"

"Yes." I didn't want to give Kiba any more details. For all I knew, he would barge into the employer's lounge and strangle Orochimaru.

"Did he try anything on you?" Kiba's demand was like all his other demands. He wanted an answer, and I was to give it to him. So I did.

"No. He's not like that," I protested. It sounded weak, as if I actually _did_ commit a crime. "And even if he did, I could have defended myself--" There was a knock and then the door opened almost immediately, revealing Shikamaru.

"Explain," Shikamaru's anger was obvious in the way he crossed his hands over his chest. "Now." I blinked up at Shikamaru as if I was seeing him in new light. His long hair was pulled back into his usual high pony-tail and he was almost in the same condition as Kiba, with his tie loosened, and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He was tall, so it took him no more than a step and a half to reach over to the foot of the bed, lean over and demand again that I explain. And I did, watching as Kiba's eyes widened in enlightenment at the details.

"Oh," they said in unison.

"Bizarre, isn't it?" I said.

"Right. Come on, lets go home," Shikamaru said.

I looked out the window and noticed that it was no longer so bright. The day had passed already, and I hadn't even noticed. "Don't you have to sign a form?" I asked. Maybe I would see Orochimaru one last time and make up for my stupidity.

"Oh yes, I _do_, don't I," Shikamaru said. He looked at Kiba and dragged him up by the hand. "You can sign them with me. I'll tell you what that smart-assed nurse told me over the phone." Kiba looked over his shoulders, grinning. Once they left, I began to search for my clothes, which I found folded in a cabinet. There was another knock on the door, and then it opened. The knocking was getting to me, and this time it distracted me from buttoning my shirt.

"Will you two _stop_ trying to act so cocky-assed and full of manners all of a sudden? You don't have to knock every time...and my fingers aren't working for some stupid--" I turned, thinking that I would face Shikamaru and Kiba, but instead encountered a rather amused Orochimaru.

"Cocky-assed?" He said. I knew he was trying to hold the laughter in. "Creative." I couldn't think of another reply. I laughed guiltily, but then stopped when Orochimaru started walking towards me. My heart started to race again. _Damn _what is he going to do? If Shikamaru and Kiba walked in now, I don't know what I would do to--

Orochimaru reached over and began to unbutton my shirt. He was going _way_ too fast for me, and I was about to push his hands away when Orochimaru shook his head 'no'. He spoke in a low voice because he was so close to me. "You didn't get a concussion, but it was still a traumatic blow. You're feel heavy and slow for a while. Also," he reached forward again and undid the top button. "You buttoned your shirt wrong."

I think my heart stopped then. Why, oh _why_ did this have to be me? I stood stiff in embarrassment as Orochimaru unbuttoned my shirt starting at the bottom. His fingers lingered by my collar before he moved them slowly down the length of my stomach to start buttoning from the bottom again, his fingers lightly touching my skin as he did so. My heart started to thunder again. Oh _god_ help me.

Orochimaru started to button, slowly. Painstakingly. He did one, and then moved onto the next, touching me slightly as he made the transition. Halfway through, I think I must have closed my eyes against the sensation, and he must have leaned in a bit, his breath warm against my skin. "I wanted to see you again, and I thought that this might be a good time to ask..." He paused as he finished another button and moved onto the next, this time his fingers a little more obviously touching the skin on my chest. "Can I call you?" He paused and then, playfully, he added, "Payment for the ramen."

_Hell yeah_! I nodded, my eyes wide with disbelief. _Score. Uzumaki Naruto is making incredible progress Mr. Sexy Doctor_. "Do you have my numb--"

"I can get it if I wanted to," Orochimaru was still standing close to me. I nodded again. How, I wanted to ask, but I bit my tongue thinking that if I said something, maybe even breathed the wrong way, then the moment would be dispelled. Orochimaru had almost finished buttoning my shirt by then, he was at the top, but he lingered and played with the fabric, touching me now and then. "Would you like that?" His voice was almost a whisper, but I could hear almost every single vowel he pronounced.

"Yes." I managed to whisper that much, and then I held my breath when Orochimaru leaned in, his golden gaze flickering with mischief. He took my collar and drew me in towards him, tilting my head by the chin and was about to kiss me. Oh _damn_ he was so close to kissing me. I could almost feel his lips on mine, and then--

And then, the door burst open. I _wish_ that Shikamaru and Kiba were cocky-assed and full of manners, but they weren't, so they assumed that they could barge in like that. I pushed Orochimaru away quickly. Orochimaru turned around to look at the intruders, and over his shoulders, I saw Kiba, his eyes wide. I looked at Orochimaru and saw that his face now looked dangerous, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and smiling slightly. There was a moment's silence, and suddenly, I felt as if I had to defend myself against something, my skin prickling with the anticipation of a fight.

"Orochimoro, right?" Kiba's words came through his clenched teeth.

"Orochim_a_ru," Orochimaru corrected.

"What ever, just get out." Kiba walked over to me and grabbed me by the wrist. He tugged at me.

"I never knew that Naruto's friends were bodyguards in disguise," Orochimaru's words were oddly cold, and I glanced at him with surprise. I didn't like the way he sounded, and I think that my expression told him that because he immediately smoothed out any anger that he was feeling and offered, "but I am glad that he has such friends."

Kiba's jaw was still tight, and I looked at Shikamaru who was looking at me without any expression. Slowly, he shifted his gaze to Orochimaru. I saw a flicker of suspicion cross his face, but then it was gone.

"I'll leave, then," Orochimaru broke the tension that hung heavily in the air. He looked at me and added, "I'll call." If he had left without saying that, I would have known. He didn't need to reiterate the fact by saying it. Maybe he did it to spite Kiba, and it thoroughly worked because Kiba tightened his grip on me. I nodded mutely, and then Orochimaru was gone, walking past Shikamaru and nodding his head genially at my friends. I marveled at his ability to be polite at such a situation like this.

And still, there was something odd about the way he had said good bye. The silence was suffocating, and Kiba's grip was still hard on my hand. When I tugged at it a bit, Kiba let go of it forcefully as if he were getting rid of something tainted. I stared at him with disbelief, and he stared back, equaling my anger.

"Something's wrong about him. You're making a mistake." Shikamaru's voice snapped me out of my staring contest with Kiba. I didn't know what he meant, and I think I would have understood had I been smarter at that time, but I wasn't, so I scoffed.

"How do you know? You haven't talked to him! You haven't known him as long as I--"

"And how long is that, huh, Naruto?" Shikamaru walked towards me, abandoning his post by the door. "A day? A few hours, or just a few minutes?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but then realized that Shikamaru was right. I hadn't spoken to Orochimaru more than four times, and each time had only been a brief visit on his behalf, mostly so he could fulfill his duty as a doctor. "Naruto, just--what's wrong with you? You always took your time with people--I mean, come _on_! You took at least a year or two before you completely trusted me! And that guy is...he's not right. Something about him..." Kiba threw up his hands in resignation. "What ever, just, lets go home."

I opened my mouth again to snap out a protest, but shut it with a clack of teeth, swallowing the angry words that were crawling up my throat. I had a tendency to ruin things like that. Zabuza had called me a bridge-burner once. He told me that I was the kind of person who would walk across a bridge, and then turn around and burn it. He said that I might not burn the bridge purposefully, but I did nonetheless.

I remembered Haku, as I walked behind Shikamaru, fully dressed with my shoes making muted noises against the carpet in the hospital corridor and my suit hanging limply over my shoulder. I remembered what I did with Haku, and as if in response to that memory, I could almost feel the burn of the tattoo mark against my skin as if it were being made at that moment. I remembered how we had been, the friendship between us too intimate to distinguish with confidence whether or not we were lovers. I remembered the day, when I was stupid and sixteen, how I had turned around, and unintentionally ruined everything between us. As the elevator door closed and began the journey down with me, Shikamaru, and Kiba in it, I remembered the way Haku looked at me, full of disgust and anger. I remembered the way he turned away without saying a word, his beautiful face contorted with emotions that he had learned to control. I remembered the way he said "I hate you."

--

I took heed of Shikamaru's advice, and told Kiba as much. He seemed happy that I reconsidered. The two of them stayed with me, helping clean up the apartment, taking care of me, and feeding me with ramen and Tylenol. We ate in my bedroom, me on the bed and Shikamaru and Kiba sitting cross-legged on the floor, gesturing their chopsticks to reiterate the horror and worry they had felt at my absence.

When I told Kiba and Shikamaru what I remembered of the insults I had thrown at the Uchiha Bastard, they burst out laughing and Kiba accidentally spilled all his rice over the carpet. He cleaned it up immediately, still laughing at my "prideless freak of nature" insult. "That's classic, man," Shikamaru said, still clutching at his sides. For the first time, his lazy expression was broken by his unheeded laughter. Tears were streaming down their faces as I recollected how Uchiha Bastard and I kissed accidentally.

But then Kiba began to insist that I sleep early so that I would be able to get to work on time the next day. Shikamaru was the one to leave first, repeating that he would come by in the morning and check that I was alright. I knew that it wasn't a long distance since Shikamaru, Kiba, and I lived in the same apartment building, but when I felt a gnawing sense of guilt, I told him that he didn't need to.

Shikamaru didn't reply and left, which was Nara-speak for: That's a stupid idea. Kiba's good-bye was a little more unexpected. "When I said that you should reconsider this Orochimaru guy, I didn't mean that you shouldn't give him a chance," his words were slow, and I could sense that he was mulling over what to say before he told me his thoughts. "Just--just don't jump into bed with him too quickly. Trust me, it's not pleasant when you realize that your first with someone you actually like was a one-night stand. You should--you shouldn't throw away something like that so easily."

Kiba was the more promiscuous of the three of us, so it was strange hearing something like that from him. I nodded, unsure of how I should react to something like that. "Good. Then." He stood up abruptly. "Good luck. I won't see you in the morning. You can tell me what happened tomorrow evening. My place?"

I nodded again, still dumbfounded at his words. "Good night."

"'Night."

He left, and I didn't bother to see him our or lock the front door after him. I was too sleepy, and if anyone _did_ come in to rob something, I doubt that I would be in any real danger. Zabuza said once that I left a legacy behind me, that I'd learned his lessons well, that I'd been good at what we did, what _he_ made us do.

I remember him saying that as if he said it yesterday. "Rest assured, you won't ever be in danger."

"Why?"

"Because, you can inspire fear, and fear is the origin of hate." I hadn't replied, and I sometimes wonder if I should have, but when I opened the door and looked back at the life I was abandoning--

I saw Haku come out of the kitchen, holding a mug of tea, the smell the herbs floating pleasantly in the air. I think that in the filthy lives that the three of us led, Haku was the only one who took the pains to better it with his purity. "Good luck," Zabuza's voice came to me as I was closing the door. And just before I heard the final click behind me, I heard him call out my name, "Bridge-Burner."

_End of The Second_

* * *

_Footnotes:_

Seibo Byoin: A hospital in Tokyo. It's real as well. It's also known as the International Catholic Hospitall. I don't know if my description of it is accurate. I doubt it is. Like with Daigaku Shinbun, I made that part up for the conveniences of the story.

Military Defense Strategist: This is a _true_ position in the military. It is usually given to those people such as Shikamaru. High IQ, good at thinking up of strategies at hard times. It is not a very high job because there are several people who are appointed for the same task in any given time, but is still respected and very difficult to get.

Okinawa, Tokyo: A military base in Tokyo. It is one of the most important ones in the entire country, and deals with even the US forces.


	3. The Third

Here's a profound metaphor: This story is like a mountain for me to climb. By the time I am done, I expect chocolate chip cookies with almonds on my front porch. I kid you not.

This chapter got a lot of reworking done, and I think I'm satisfied with it. If any of you remember the original, tell me which you like better... Enjoy and remember feedback means free hugs.

* * *

**The bridge I crossed**

_ The Third_

I looked at myself one last time in the mirror, flinching when I heard Shikamaru growl. "You look _fine_. You're going to work, not to seduce your boss."

"But _still_." I didn't want to go up to that Uchiha Bastard looking like a complete fool. I would have to make amends for my stupidity before.

"Naruto." His voice held warning, and I took heed of it. So, I gave one last look at myself. My hair was spiked as usual, there was nothing I could do about that. And my outfit was business: normal white, full-sleeved, button down shirt, a navy blue tie, the usual gray suit, just a shade lighter because dark colors don't look good on me according to Kiba, and the same colored pants. I looked ridiculously old, and told Shikamaru as much, whining a little about it. Maybe you should go to work with a bib on, he offered. I couldn't even attempt a laugh, and instead, followed Shikamaru out.

He graciously suggested that he would drive me there, and I accepted. I didn't know what to make of all that happened, and remained silent the rest of the ride to my work, trying to figure out a way to phrase my introduction. I could feel the blush coming upon me again when I realized that I would have to face all the workers who witnessed my outburst. I should have rejected Kakashi's offer--fifteen percent raise or not. This embarassment was not worth the money.

When Shikamaru stopped at the same place the taxi driver had, he lingered a moment or two to make sure that I was all right before leaving. I watched him leave this time, hoping to delay my confrontation. After a few minutes, I steeled myself and walked through the doors, this time under more control. The lobby was a bit more crowded, and I noted with a moment's pride that I was on time. There were a few people already waiting for the elevator, and I joined the mass, hoping that it would come down soon, and feeling the pit in my stomach grow deeper and deeper by the minute. Not a single person said a word to me.

When I finally got on the elevator, someone at the front asked the floors that people wanted to be dropped of at. Someone before me had already mentioned '9', so I let it be. I felt a sense of alarm when someone else said '6', thinking they might recognize me. But they didn't. Maybe the Uchiha Bastard had sent out a staff-wide memo that no one speak of the incident. Maybe. Or maybe not.

Slowly, the elevator emptied, and by the time I was stepping out onto the ninth floor, there was only one man beside me. He considered me before a while, before he spoke. "Uzumaki Naruto, right?" I felt my throat close up in embarassment, so I nodded. "Yakushi Kabuto. I was there when you fainted."

"Oh--yeah," I forced a smile on my face, and prayed that the elevator stopped. It did, at the sixth floor. Kabuto got out, but lingered by the door to chat a little.

"So, what happened? You were pale the entire time, and then the next thing you know. Flop. You were on your face." I told him that I was suffering from a very high fever then, that I was hallucinating because of the affect and strain. "Oh," he looked sincerely sorry, and I felt a pang lying to him, but I knew that I had to do so to preserve what little reputation I had. "Well, you should probably go and see Uchiha now. He's on the ninth floor."

I nodded gratefully and watched as the elevator doors closed on his retreating figure. When it stopped again on the ninth floor, my jaw dropped at the view. The elevator opened directly into a large, rectangular waiting room. There was a desk at the far end for the secretary--a big desk, I realized with a smile--a few seats, artfully placed paintings. But the best part of the entire setting were the glass windows spanning an entire wall, directly across from my seat. I could see all of Tokyo's business downtown from my seat, watch the sun rise to its full height and descend again. The boss might not be so nice, I realized, but the view certainly was.

With each step towards the UB's door, I reminded myself over and over again that this was a temporary job, a stepping stone between now and grad school. I had stalled my last year in college, not sure of what I wanted to do, and now, here I was. The best student, the youngest, from Japan's most prestigious university, and I was to be a secretary. For five weeks.

Scowling, I knocked. Twice.

The minute the sound died out, I panicked, thinking that I had knocked too many times. Did people usually knock once? Twice? Was I supposed to knock four times? I didn't have too much time to sort out the answer because there was a muted "come in," and I was pushing the door open even before I had time to collect my breath.

When I was inside, I made a point to look at my hand holding the door knob as I closed the door behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled--he was looking at me. Staring at me, even. I could hear my breath, feel my own pulse. I looked up--I couldn't stare at the door knob for the rest of the meeting--and then my heart, I think, stopped beating. No more lub, dubs. Just silence. Orochimaru was right. He wasn't joking when he said that the Uchiha Bastard was handsome.

His suit was draped casually over the back of his chair. He had rolled up his white shirt, unbuttoned the top buttons, loosened his tie, and his hair looked a little unkempt, looking as if he'd spent the entire night working. But his eyes--deep, dark, and uncannily bright. Even in his seat, I could tell that he was tall, over six feet, broad shouldered. I could see the ridge of his collar bone, angling down into the folds of his shirt. Even from a distance, I knew that under that shirt, he had defined muscles. From my years with Zabuza, I knew, instnatly, the Uchiha knew how to handle himself.

He looked dangerous, like Kakashi, like Orochimaru, even. Something about him made me want to press my back against the door, defend myself against an oncoming attack. _You kissed this man_, a small thought floated across my mind. I wet my bottom lip at the memory and felt his bite, still healing--remembered how absolutely wild this man was, remembered the feeling of being close to him.

I don't know how long I stood there, looking at him, and him calmly regarding me, pen still in hand. It was the phone that finally interrupted the silence in the room. He picked it up, answered it with a few spaced out 'hms,' an 'all right,' and then 'fine' before hanging up. I blinked once. Then twice before I snapped out of my reverie. Squaring my shoulders, I began: "I-- I'm s--"

"Sorry?" He interrupted me. I fell silent, clenching my fists to control myself. That man was one second away from having his face smashed into pieces.

"Yes." I bit off my word and didn't offer any more. Kakashi had said that the Uchiha had been disgruntled, that he liked the kiss. But standing in front of the him, I could barely detect any hint of emotion.

"I was amused," he said after a while. When I didn't make a move, he said, "You can sit." His eyes flickered towards a set of chairs facing his desk, and I strode over angrily. I was going to quit this instance. Heck, I would rather go and screw on Coke bottle caps. "So, Naruto, was it?"

"Yes."

"You know my name, I'm guessing," he took his eyes of me for a second, and I felt as if someone took off a few hundred pounds of weight.

"Well enough to have come up with a nickname of my own," I muttered under my breath, now that he was no longer scrutinizing me. I didn't mean for him to hear it, but he did, and he raised an aristocratic eyebrow at me.

"Oh, and what is it?"

I bit my tongue, but his eyes told me that silence was not an answer, so I ventured daringly. "You really want to know?"

"Yes, I do, actually." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

"UB." I grinned, the rational part of me wondering when I'd adopted a suicide mission. There was silence, and then the phone rang. The Uchiha Bastard picked it up, mumbled a "not now" and then hung up instantly.

"I'm guessing its an acronym."

"It actually is." This time I leaned forward and gazed at him critically.

"What does it stand for?" He was enjoying this, I knew, and so was I. So I answered.

"Uchiha," I paused for a second so I could let him anticipate. Then, "Bastard." There was no widening of his eyes, no pursing of his lips, nothing. His face was just as it had been when I first sat down.

"It's daring."

"I thought it was creative."

"To an extent."

"To a full extent." If he was going to fire me, I would go out in a full blaze of colors. He didn't object to me saying that, and answered yet another muted ring from his abominable phone. When he hung up, he turned to his right and punched a few things in his computer, the screen flickering in response, and he did this for a while before he said, still considering the monitor of his thin, monitor, "Our little kiss the other day."

He didn't say anything, and I knew he was holding off the rest of the sentence just to provoke me. So I finished it for him. "Was an accident."

"Really? Didn't seem like it." He looked at me and very pointedly stared. "You healed quickly."

That son of a bitch. I clenched my fist, seeing that my anger was rising again. "Drop it, UB."

"Should I?" He looked at me, momentarily distracted from his monitor, and then looked back. I remained silent, until the Uchiha maneuvered his chair back to face me again.

"I was feverish."

"Oh?"

"Yes," I snapped, "I was." Then, I stood up, and took a deep breath, unable to bear this any longer. He was nothing but a rich, inconsiderate, impolite asshole. "If you're going to behave like this, then I'm leaving." I had taken a step or two away from him, when I heard his whip-like voice.

"Come back here."

I paused in my stride and turned to regard him, my anger acting as an anchor for me. "To hell with you."

"All right," he paused, rolling his shoulders. He yawned, covering his mouth with a fisted hand, as if he was about to cough. "And to you too."

I opened my mouth to say something when I realized the full consequences of my actions. If I _did_ walk out, he could warn my future employees of my attitude. It would most likely lead me to a job-less life. Great. I'd made a wrong move and the Uchiha was entirely aware of this. "Bastard." I resigned and sat back down in front of him.

"So, about your fever," he said. He got up and walked around his table to stand beside me. He leaned against his table, looking down at me. I tilted my head in his direction.

"I was tired from my fever. I was hot."

"You still are." His comment made me blush, and I realized a little too late again that he did it on purpose. To test the waters, to see my reaction, and no doubt, to shred my character to pieces in that twisted little mind of his.

"Same goes to you," I flung it back at him making it sound filthy. He didn't flinch.

"So I've been told."

_That little_, my nerve snapped again, and I stood up angrily for the second time, knocking the chair over in the process. I glared at him with narrowed eyes. "Fine! You know what? Fine! I don't care anymore. I can't _stand_ you, and the way you act as if something crawled up your ass."

He stared at me, eyes blank. "Fine."

"Fine!" I shot back.

"Fine."

"FINE!" I was close to yelling now. "_FINE!_" I growled under my breath, opened my mouth to say something else and then shut it with a snap. Fine. I would leave. I would _not_ stand this.

"We've established that. Fine. Now leave. You're dismissed." He pushed himself off his desk and was about to leave when I grabbed him by the collar again. _No_ one dismisses Uzumaki Naruto.

"I won't." I won't?

He stared at me, and opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. I surprised him this time, and I knew it. Finally, he said, "Fine." We stared at each other, and I then I began to feel out of place, too close to the Uchiha bastard. I could not pin-point exactly _why_ I started to blush, but I did. The phone rang, but he ignored it, and continued to look at me.

"Kakashi'll have your directions. I'll call him up." And that was that. I let go of him, and then I was out in the waiting room, breathing heavily as if I had run a mile or two in a matter of a minute.

When I looked back at our confrontation, I realized that it could have been much worse. I could have actually hit the guy and walked out with his blood on my knuckles, or even worse, I could have killed him by stabbing him with one of his pens. Either way, our confrontation was over with, and I realized that I wouldn't have to see him again for a while. Or at least I hoped so.

I went over to my seat and sat down wearily. _If_ I hadn't dashed into the elevator like that, maybe I would not have leaned against the doors, and maybe UB would not have insulted me when I fell backwards. Maybe. And now I was stuck with him with no way out because I could not refuse the job. It would ruin the rest of my plans for the future.

I wished suddenly that I was like Shikamaru and Kiba with a decent, clean life, a goal in their minds, parents for financial support and all that good stuff in the world that I was never privy to. I remembered my childhood, how I was bounced from one foster home to another. I remembered when finally Zabuza took me in, and I was happy then. Haku was the other orphan that Zabuza took in, and in no time the two of us were good friends. I regret doing what Zabuza told me to do, and I hated that life I led, living in a well kept apartment above the bar in Tokyo. I'd been able to hear all the shouts, whoops of laughter, the blaring music that made the floor of the apartment shake. And then that one night Zabuza had killed Gato, the short man with a strange haircut.

That night, the bar had been closed. Zabuza must have planned everything out, down to the last detail. But it was a sloppy job. His alibi hadn't stuck, the MPD had been waiting for an opportunity, and two days later, the sirens had come blaring to a halt in front of our bar and Zabuza had been taken away. Haku and I had been left alone for a year, and in that time span, I ruined everything between us. I placed a hand over my stomach where my tattoo was, my ears filled with the siren noise that the police cars made. I closed my eyes against the memories, hoping that they would fade away.

When Kakashi came in, he took me by surprise, touching me lightly on the shoulder. "You look pale," he said without bothering with the preliminaries. "You okay?"

I nodded my head, my mouth suddenly dry. "I met with the Uchiha," I said finding nothing else to say.

"Oh? And what do you think?" Kakashi asked. He leaned against my desk the way Uchiha had, and I looked towards the door that separated me from the Uchiha Bastard.

"I think he's a load of crud," I muttered a little darkly.

"You'll get used to it--"

"I don't think I need to get used to him," I said quickly.

"You can't change him," Kakashi said. He pushed himself off of the edge of my desk using the heels of his palms, and looked down at me. "Sasuke's like that. I know you might not like the way he is, but we can't do anything to change it."

I heaved a sigh and nodded in resignation. Why did Kakashi put up with the brat anyways? Orochimaru had said they were friends, but still..."Fine. The UB said that--"

"UB?" Kakashi's arched an eyebrow in mild interest. "A nickname already?"

"Uchiha Bastard," I explained. "I think it's creative. UB doesn't."

"You told him?" Kakashi sounded incredulous and I tilted my head to catch his expression, but his face showed nothing.

"Yeah, I told him."

"He was okay with it?" His cross-examination was starting to annoy me, but I forced myself to answer his questions.

"He didn't say anything."

Kakashi muttered something under his breath, and looked at me for a second before motioning at my computer. "Fine then, I'll tell you what you have to do." And he did. He began with a detailed description of my job. I listened half-heartedly. It was an easy job--managing the UB's schedule, his calls, and the like. Apparently, he had several other secretaries scattered around the office. I was the one with direct access to him. A Yamanaka Ino, among others. How, I wondered, did I even get this job? I had applied out of boredom, almost. A job like this, with a man like Uchiha, required past experience, but here I was.

Most of the time, I realized, I would be bored. I would have to find a way to distract myself. I contemplated the wisdom of playing tic-tac-toe on Uchiha Corps letter heads. "...the hard part is dealing with Sasuke's more personal needs..." He trailed off as if in search for words, and in those few milliseconds, I snapped awake.

"A girl named Sakura might call in often, but turn her down one way or the other, except when she says its important. If she gets too insistent, direct her to Sasuke. Don't ask him before you do this, though, he'll say no and block any directed calls from you, and you'll have to deal with Sakura by yourself."

"A sister?"

Kakashi chuckled and shook his head. "Fiancé."

I stared mutely at him. The UB was engaged? To a woman. "Engaged?" My voice was strained. I felt alarmed. Kakashi nodded. "Does she know? This Sakura I mean. Does she know that I accidentally...uh..." Made out with her future husband? In public? On the office floor? That he bit me?

"Kissed him? Yes. Most people know, Naruto." Kakashi said quietly. "So if she's a bit mean to you--don't take it personally. You need to understand how she feels about all this." Kakashi sounded fond of this Sakura--maybe that was why Kakashi was nice to the Uchiha. Someone he cared about was marrying the UB--so I nodded in understanding. He looked pleased with my response.

"Well, that's all then. Good luck."

I felt as if I was trapped, and watched Kakashi walk towards the elevator and disappeared out of sight. It looked like it would be a boring day--and from what Kakashi told me, access to Sasuke was limited. There were an army of corporate officials peppered in the building, and Sasuke the lord of it all. I was just about to sit back in my chair and relax, maybe start a game of tic-tac-toe or even the day's crossword, when the phone rang. I picked up the ear piece and cleared my throat.

"Uchiha Sasuke's office, Uzumaki Naruto."

"So _you're_ the person who kissed Sasuke." It was Sakura, there was no doubt about it.

My mind clicked into action. "It was an accident, ma'am. I'm really sorry. I wasn't feeling well, and was a bit dizzy and it was just a series of unfortunate events. I'm really sorry." I put in a guilty laugh.

"Whatever, just give the line to Sasuke."

I wanted to put her through, just to spite the UB, but instead did what Kakashi told me to do. "He's busy right now, on the phone with someone else that I just re-directed. I'll let him know that you called, so he can get back to you." My voice was softer than usual, the way I used to speak whenever I was in the bar. There was silence, and then she finally consented to my idea.

"Thank you," she said grudgingly.

"You're welcome." She hung up and I gave myself a mental pat on the back for my success with the woman. I wondered momentarily if she was beautiful, but then I heard another ring and I answered the phone, my patience already gone. This was _not_ what a Kyoto University Graduate does. I picked up the phone, was ready to identify myself, but then I heard a stern, "Get over here."

So, I stood up grudgingly, putting away the ear-piece. Inside, I lingered at the door, bored and slightly offended that the UB hadn't even bothered to say my name or even a 'please'. So, I voiced my thoughts. "Next time, make sure to say my name and 'please', UB."

The Uchiha glanced up at me, but looked back down to the papers onto his desk.

"Your fiancé called," I informed him.

"Huh," he muttered, still writing something. Why didn't he want to talk to her? Kakashi seemed to like her--maybe there was a love triangle, I thought, grinning at the idea. This job would be much more interesting than I'd anticipated.

"You should respect her some more, UB, if you want to have a successful marriage." My advice made him look up momentarily, and he motioned for me to sit down again, so I did. Oddly enough, we were on better grounds now.

"Are you married?" He asked. I was surprised at this question--didn't he know? Couldn't he tell that I wasn't interested in...he seemed like he knew--and I shook my head 'no'.

"So how would you know what it takes to make a marriage a success?" He demanded. I saw that he was angry, but I countered it with my own.

"It's called common sense. Maybe if you talked to her once in a while, she would be happy. You know, you're not the only one with feelings in this world."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really," I retorted. "And what's with this marriage anyways? Is it one-sided or something like that?"

He shot a glare at me before returning to his papers. "My marriage is my concern and none of yours," he said.

"Out of curiosity, was it arranged?" I couldn't keep my mouth shut to save my soul. The Uchiha put his pen down with a sharp click, and sat back to consider me. When I cocked my head, he seemed to realize that I was not asking for an answer, I was demanding one.

"It was. My marriage is only to produce heirs for the Clan." I grimaced at his coldness towards such a thing. Kiba told me only last night not to throw something away like that so flippantly, and I repeated what Kiba said to me.

"It's special, you know. Something like that. You shouldn't throw it away so easily." The last phrase I' quoted Kiba word for word, and I was happy that I did. I hated the UB, but I didn't hate the Sakura girl. The Uchiha raised an eyebrow at me again, and I wondered how he did it without disturbing any other part of his face. It was a perfect motion: he was aristocratic down to the very bones in his body. I never had a liking for the rich and rude. "Why did you call me?"

He pushed a file across the desk. "Get these over to Kakashi, I want them hand-delivered. Make dinner reservation for four at Baku's at seven, the table overlooking their gardens. Let Natsumi know that I'll drive myself and I want the lamborghini. I sent Neji a message that we'd have a press conference sometime this week about the merger. If his secretary makes an appointment, run it by me before fitting it into my schedule."

I stared at him, wondering if he'd give me any more orders. He did. "Leave a message at my loft for Eiji and tell him that I want clothes sent over. When the suit gets here, bring it in with a cup of coffee, black, one cream, and half a spoon of sugar. I want to go over my schedule for tomorrow at twelve thirty."

I took the papers a little hesitantly. These go to Kakashi's, I repeated in my head. I had to take them myself. "That's all," the Uchiha muttered, and turned away to the computer. But where exactly was Kakashi? And how exactly was I supposed to find him if I didn't know. I stared at the Uchiha, hoping he'd offer some help. A moment passed, and slowly, the Uchiha turned to me. "I said, that's all."

I rolled my eyes. "I heard, UB. I was just wondering. Where's Kakashi?"

He was silent for a while, and I began to wonder if he'd act the way he did when we first met. Maybe he'd refuse to help me again. "Sixth floor," he said, finally, taking me by surprise.

I smiled at him. He was learning. "_Thank_ you," I said, placing unnecessary emphasis on my words. "Now being nice wasn't so hard, was it?"

He stared at me, frowning slightly, sulking, I realized, like a petulant boy. "I'll order lunch, as a reward," I said, smiling still.

"I don't eat l--"

"Miso ramen, from Ichiraku," I cut him off, standing up. "They started delivery service a few weeks ago, and I haven't gotten a chance to call them up yet."

"I don't want ramen," he snapped when I got up to leave.

I was half out the door already when I grinned at him. "Trust me, UB. _Everyone_ wants ramen."

--

Before I left the office, I took a post-it on my desk and scribbled down everything I could remember. He wanted dinner reservations at Baku (did I hear that right?), at a table that looked over some garden somewhere. And a man named Na-smething was supposed to give the Uchiha a lamborghini, and another man named Neji was going to have a press conference about a merger. Someone would talk to me about that, but I wasn't supposed to schedule it. I was supposed to call the Uchiha's loft (and what exactly was that?), leave a message for a man there about getting a new set of clothes. And he wanted coffee. Black, one cream, and half a spoon of sugar. And something about going over his schedule for tomorrow at twelve thirty, which I would have to figure out when the time came.

I found Kakashi easily enough. He was flirting casually with one of the women in the cubicles. When he saw me, he straightened and walked over to greet me. "These," I said, handing the papers over to him, "Are for you."

"Already working you like a slave, huh?" Kakashi mumbled, flipping through the papers.

"Don't worry," I said, "I'm getting paid _really _well." Kakashi looked up at me, a smile on his face. He had raised my pay by fifteen percent so I would agree to work here. As far as secretarial jobs went, I probably had the best paid position in the city. He was about to say something when I cut him off. "Where does the UB like his coffee?"

Kakashi gave me directions and answered a few more of my questions. Neji, it turned out, was Sasuke's distant cousin, head of PR; Na-somebody was Natsumi, Sasuke's driver, and the person at Sasuke's loft was Eiji. And Baku's was Sasuke's preferred business dinner location. I thanked Kakashi for his help and returned to take care of the rest of my tasks.

It was another half an hour before I had placed all the calls and started on the UB's coffee. By then, his suit had arrived. I made myself a cup as well and made my way back into Sasuke's office, suit draped over one hand. He looked irked when I walked around his table to stand over his shoulder. Reaching down, I placed the coffee in front of him before draping his suit on his chair. "It's been an _hour_," he snapped, snatching for the coffee.

"Oh, please, stop being so dramatic, UB. It's been _half_ an hour." I sat down and made myself comfortable. "How's the coffee? The decaf in his building's kind of stale so mine's kind of stale." He scoffed, and took a sip before returning to his work, ignoring me. "The ramen should be here in ten," I said, taking a sip of my own coffee. "I ordered miso for the both of us."

He stared at me, angry now. "I don't eat lunch."

"That's not healthy," I said, and without letting him say anything else, stood up. "Now get back to work. We have ten minutes before lunch."

I made my way back to my desk and sat down, checking for any messages, and as if on cue, the phone rang. "Naruto, this is Yoshie, Kakashi's secretary. Could you pencil him in for an appointment at twelve ten with Uchiha?"

"He's actually having lunch then, how about one?"

There was silence on the other end. "Lunch?"

"Yep. One doesn't work?"

"No, it works. It's just--are you sure? Lunch?"

"Pretty sure. Just ordered for the two of us." She agreed to one, and then, just as I was hanging up, the ramen arrived. I tipped the boy generously, told him thank you, and headed in with our food.

"One miso for you," I said, putting a box in front of the UB, "And one for me. Dig in."

He stared at the box as if it was something alien. "I don't--"

"Oh, shut up and eat," I muttered, opening my box. "It's good."

Slowly but surely, Sasuke picked up his chop sticks and ate.

--

"--he was _such_ an," I paused to chew. "Such an idiot," I finished after swallowing. The UB stared at me. "And _then_, he has the _nerve_ to kick me off the team. But Idate quit too, and everything went downhill from there, so I got reinstated as captain. We lost regionals anyways. It kind of bummed us all out."

It was day six of my job, and so far, the Uchiha and I hadn't gotten into any major fights. Except for the fact that the UB insisted on ordering lunch every other day. So here I was, eating sushi. The phone rang at the Uchiha's desk, and leaning over, I picked it up. I routed all my calls to the UB's office during lunch and it had become a habit now: get through the first half of the day, order lunch, eat lunch in the Uchiha's office, spend a few minutes bickering, and getting through the rest of the day. "Uchiha's office."

"Naruto, could you patch me through to Sasuke?" It was Kakashi, voice pitched low in his office.

"Sure. He's right here."

"Right there?"

"Huh?" I picked up my box of food and realized that something was missing--"Yeah. He's right here."

"Where are you two?"

"In his office..." I swear I had more food just a few minutes ago--

"Eating?"

"Yeah, and--" I looked up to see that the Uchiha was eating one of my dumplings. When had he--"UB, stay _away_ from my dumplings."

"You weren't eating them," the Uchiha snapped.

"Have my sushi, if you're so hungry," I mumbled, giving him my box. He took it.

"Who is it?"

"Kakashi."

He took the phone, glancing at me oddly before digging into my lunch. "Kakashi," he said, around a bite. For all his aristocratic upbringing, the Uchiha talked with his mouthful sometimes. I frowned at him, but he didn't notice. "Yeah, sure. Send it over to Naruto." He hung up and finished eating the rest of the food.

"What?"

"Nothing," he muttered, sounding a little peeved. The Uchiha liked to eat, I realized early on. He had an insatiable appetite, worse than mine even. Sighing, I reached over and dropped my last dumpling in his box."Happy now?"

He prodded at the dumpling a little before taking a bite out of it. "You were talking about your stupid coach," he prompted, mouth full.

--

When I walked into the office on the seventh day, I felt a little anxious. My week was almost over. By all predictions, I was going to be fired today. I'd heard that there was even a betting pool on some of the floors. I spent the first half of the day, flinching every time the Uchiha called me in for something. I was quiet as we went over his schedule, and didn't even say anything when he called me a girl.

"Chinese," the Uchiha said, some hours later. "I want Chinese." This entire ordeal meant nothing to him. I was just another one of his many secretaries for him to hire and fire a week later at his whim. I was nothing to him, I thought bitterly, and the fact that this bothered me, even remotely, angered me even more.

"Order it yourself," I snapped, wondering when he was going to pull the trigger and kick me out. He looked a little puzzled, but picked up the phone anyways. I felt triumphant. The UB ordering his own food, not making someone else do it for him--

"Ino. Order some Chinese food for me and Naruto, would you?"

I threw up my hands and left his room with a loud bang of the door. A few minutes later, the door to his office opened and he came out, looking irked.

"What's wrong with you?" I thought about how to answer his question, but opted instead to finish the email I was typing up. "I said, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I snapped.

"If it were nothing, you wouldn't be acting like this, Naruto."

"I wanted pork ramen today, okay? Not Chinese." I breathed out heavily. That was not the reason, but for now, it would do. It shouldn't matter to me what my place was in the Uchiha's life. It shouldn't matter, even, that--

"If _you_ enjoy it so much, I doubt that it tastes good," he shot back, angry that I was lying so blatantly.

"At least, unlike a certain someone, I _know_ how to take care of myself because _I'm_ not the one who has people groveling at every single word I say and licking my fingers for me!"

"At least I can afford that," he bit out. I stood up to face him and saw that his face had frozen into a look of pure, unadulterated anger.

"You were _born_ rich, you fool, you have no idea what hard work _is_," I commented.

"_You're _the one who acts as if the entire population of Japan just got shoved up your ass, not me, pretty boy."

"_Pretty boy_?" That comment made me grit my teeth in anger, and I took the man by the collar, shaking him a bit, and saying, "And what are _you_, huh? You're the one who's strutting around with that 'all-hail-me' attitude," I flung at him. We were glaring at each other now, our voices raising over each other's words. And here I was, thinking that I wasn't able to ruffle a single feather on Mr. Peacock. His lips twitched, and then he gave me a full-fledged smirk, one that made me draw back my fist in an attempt to hit him.

I threw the punch at his face, putting to use all the street-fighting tricks I had learned. But he grabbed my fist, twisted my hand so it was behind my back, and then, his chest was pressing up against me from behind. "Don't think you're the only one who can fight," he hissed in my ear, moving closer. I snatched my hand away, and turned to face him, only to have him loom over me.

I took a step back. We were crammed into the relatively small space behind my desk, and there was only one way I could get out of this situation: run. I tried to maneuvre my away around him and out into the open space of the room but he pushed me back against the desk. "Don't underestimate me, Naruto."

I gritted my teeth at that. If he knew--if only he knew my background. "You're treading dangerous waters yourself, Uchiha," I hissed.

"Oh?" He chuckled, and I tried not to shiver at that sound.

I lifted my chin, defiant still, to face him. He placed his hands against the desk on either side of me and bent a little so that he could look at me in the eye. All it would take was for me to tilt my head just so, and our lips would meet. "I wanted ramen," I hissed.

"And I wanted Chinese," the Uchiha snapped back, his voice pitched low.

"Move."

"No."

"I said _move_, UB."

"And _I_," the Uchiha pressed forward until our noses were almost touching. This was too close, much too close for my comfort. "_I _said, what's wrong with you?"

"It's nothing," I mumbled, ducking my head.

"Look at me." I kept my head down, staring at our feet on the floor, a jumble of black shoes now that we were so close to each other. "Naruto." His voice held a threat, so I let my eyes wander over his face. It wasn't entirely perfect, I realized. There were flaws, small flaws. I tried to look at him in the eye, and saw something there that made the heat rise up to my face.

"Stop being a girl about everything, Naruto," he said, voice still low. There was no insult in his tone, only the warmth of his breath on my cheek. I put a hand on the desk for support, and in that instance, our fingers met. And that might have been all that he needed because he moved even closer, pushing at the small space between us, covering my hand with his, his gaze heated, and a little wild. I thought, over the past week, that he wasn't even interested in men, they way he handled himself, but this--

"Sorry to interrupt," Kakashi's voice cut through the silence, breaking whatever concentration we had on each other. I turned my head to see that Kakashi was standing by the elevator, a woman next to him.

She was, by all accounts, beautiful. She had red--a dark pink almost--hair tumbling over her shoulders, and was wearing a cream-colored dress made from obviously expensive silk. The dress was normal, not too revealing, but it did the job because even I found myself tracing the soft curves of her body. The most beautiful part of her, though, were her eyes, a fierce, fierce green that sparkled in the office light. I didn't recognize her, so I offered a smile and said in the most composed way possible, pushing the Uchiha away, "May I help you?"

The Uchiha was looking at the girl till then, and my comment made him glance at me for a second before returning his gaze to the girl.

"Sakura," he stated calmly. "I got your message." I glanced at the UB in horror, my mouth open. _Sakura_, as in the girl who the UB was engaged to, as in his fiance. The girl didn't say anything, and instead turned her burning gaze on me, and I realized with horror what she was thinking.

I shook my head apologetically, and opened my big, stupid mouth again. "It isn't what you think. We were fighting over what to order for lunch and I tried to hit him--"

"Lunch?" She raised an eyebrow at my explanation. For everyone else in the world, the Uchiha didn't _eat_ lunch. So no matter how truthful my explanation was, there was no way she would believe it.

"He wanted Chinese, and I wanted pork ramen," I plowed on. I shoved the Uchiha out of the way and made my way to her, hoping to salvage the situation. "I was just trying to hit him, but he was trying to threaten me, and--"

We must have looked intimate, like lovers, even, and since we were so close, it must have looked like we were about to kiss, maybe do something more. What must they be thinking? There was barely any space between me and Sasuke, and with me up against the desk, they must have thought--I blushed at the thought that came to mind, a rapid succession of images: the Uchiha and me, bare, against each other, moving together, his shirt undone, with my office desk for support, my hand in his hair, him breathing hard against my neck, entirely animal in his desire for--"Oh dear _lord_, that's a disgusting thought." There was silence. I cleared my throat. "Really, just _try_ and understand. It's not like that--"

By then, the UB was sitting in my seat, calmly looking at the two of us with a bored expression. I wondered how he could stand there, watching as his engagement was on the verge of ruination. I looked at the woman again. Her lips were pursed, and then she took a step towards me. In that instant, I realized that she was a bit taller than me. It was maybe by an inch or two, not by much but at that instant it made all the difference.

"I am so sorr--" She took in a deep breath, squared her shoulders and then slapped me.

It stung. I had been in fights before, and I could vouch, with certainty, that Sakura held more strength in that arm of hers than many, many men I had fought. My head snapped sideways in the direction of her slap. It felt as if my entire cheek had been punctured with a pad full of needles, and I rose a hand gingerly to touch the sore spot. When I turned my gaze back to her, still bewildered at her action, she turned and left, the elevator door closing with a soft ding. I stared after her, my fingers still lingering above my sore cheek, and finally, after what seemed like a million years, I uttered, "What have I _done_--"

I glanced at the Uchiha, still unable to say anything else, and he cocked his head in my direction with an amused smiled.

"OII!"

"Not this again," he said with a frustrated sigh.

"Oi! You--you!"

"What? That's it? That wasn't too creative."

I walked over to him and took him by the collar, forcing him to look up at me from his seat. "Your fiance," I hissed, "Just thought you cheated on her with another man. If you had even a scrap of decency, even a _fiber_ of your heart left, you'd go after her and explain to her what just happened."

"And what happened?" He stood up, pushing me back a few steps, and crossed his arms, demanding now. "What _exactly_ just happened? Or was it so disgusting you don't want to talk about it."

"Nothing happened," I growled. He looked amused and raised an eyebrow at that. I was nothing to him, and neither was Sakura. We were just there, for his amusement, to fill his time, his needs. Maybe I was just one of his sexual experiments, maybe he got bored with women, thought, Why not give it a try with _him_?

I took in a deep breath. _Don't punch him, don't punch him, anything you do, don't punch_--I slapped him, hopefully just as hard as Sakura hit me. My fingers tingled at the contact and I noticed with satisfaction that his cheek was turning a slight shade of pink. He stared at me, eyes wide now. "You aren't _human_," I snapped, "There is _nothing_ human about you, if you can just stand to break someone's heart and trust like that without even a second thought. You're going to go after her--"

I felt a hand grab me and drag me away from Sasuke and into the elevator. It was Kakashi, and when the elevator doors closed, an instant later, he said, in one of the coldest voices I had ever heard, "You're fired."

_End of The Third_


	4. Ch 4 through 21

So. After all those weeks (three, if I counted correctly), it's done. Again.

Chapter 4 through 21--I edited the story so massively that I shaved away seven entire chapters--are up online on my new website. I rewrote nearly twelve entire chapters, a lot of major edits, so I would appreciate if you let me know what you think about the newly revamped TBIC.

Check it out: scrum dot spiralfishcake dot net.

The link should be up on my bio... Oh my god, my eyes are bleeding after rewriting this beast.

--Fool


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